


The Beautiful Lie

by VixxFixxion



Category: STARLIGHT - Fandom, VIXX, Vixx Starlight
Genre: Anal, Awkward Friends to Lovers, Canon, Consent, M/M, NSFW, PWP, Pining, Sex, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Vixx - Freeform, bareback, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 03:29:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21439498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VixxFixxion/pseuds/VixxFixxion
Summary: Taekwoon could never really bring himself to confessBut he can't hold back when he realises that Wonsik has got him all wrongPart Two is a separate fic called The Beautiful Truth - https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268007
Relationships: Jung Taekwoon/Kim Wonsik, Ravi/Leo, Vixx Leo / Vixx Ravi, wontaek - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 103





	The Beautiful Lie

**Author's Note:**

> I began this just before Today's Activity showed and once it did, I started not believing in the story I had begun. Similarly, once news of Leo's enlistment broke, it seemed to send my writing into a direction i didn't want.
> 
> So it was an animal that changed a couple of times - but despite its hint of angstiness it was always meant to be about wontaek finally having rabid sex, and i hope ultimately, that that part is satisfying
> 
> Am on twitter sometimes @vfixxion
> 
> I love comments, please feel free to leave them:)

Wonsik let the last pieces of meat fall onto the serving plate and sat down on the hard bench, exhausted. The tray in his hand clattered to the table, and Hongbin huffed as he leaned forward and steadied it before it could fall off.

It had been a while since they had last done a live altogether, and he had grown used to the unstructured, laid back insta lives he and the boys back at Groovl1n had established for themselves. Doing this with the other four again was a lot more like a marathon, long-running back stories, needing a different kind of attention and performing for camera. He could feel himself lagging, feeling old and hack with responses that came out dusty, despite their familiarity.

More often than he wanted to admit, he would find Taekwoon eyeing him with a smirk. In the back of his mind, he sensed that Taekwoon seemed to recognise what he was going through, and was probably laughing at him, watching him trying to wade through the murk.

The crew shut off their equipment, taking a break to come over and sample the food as Hyuk and Ken chatted amiably with them.

Hongbin seemed to sink into the hard rest that was the edge of the rooftop they were filming on, and he could feel a weariness in his posture that echoed his own.

Hongbin sighed and looked over at him.

“Things seem so tiring nowadays, don’t they?” he said, eyeing him with all seriousness.

“Depends on what we do,” Wonsik answered, trying to be noncommittal. He had spent a lot of time with Hongbin over their summer cola concert weekend, and they had been around mutual friends, and it had struck him that, despite knowing Hongbin so deeply, they had come together for work, and had separated easily, emotionlessly, as soon as it was done.

It hadn’t seemed tiring then, and Wonsik attributed it to Hongbin’s shared sentiment that it was just work, not an opportunity to catch up. They said their goodbyes perfunctorily, each returning to their little corners of the city happily.

Today, though, seemed tough, and Hongbin seemed to hint at understanding him somewhat.

Hongbin glanced over at Hyuk and Jaehwan, who were playing off each other’s energy, much like they would do, on camera. Wonsik looked over also, and he felt keenly what Hongbin meant by tiring. He knew they were genuinely enjoying it, but today for him, it did seem like keeping that energy up, was a bit like performing.

He suddenly felt Taekwoon’s presence by his side, and as always, that strange feeling that he was both put off by and calmed by it. He looked up to find Taekwoon had sidled up so close to him as he sat, that he was practically resting his hip on his shoulder.

“Ugh, what do you want?”

“You missed me didn’t you?”

Wonsik looked over at Hongbin for back up, but he had already been drawn in to the conversation at the table.

“Why would I miss you? I have new friends now.” Wonsik was deliberately trying to match Taekwoon’s petty humour, but he felt himself feeling smug and right about it - and he hated that. This side of him always seemed to come out when he dealt with Taekwoon. Or Hakyeon.

“You mean you have new kids now, we’re your real friends,” Taekwoon pouted, nudging him with a bump of his hips.

“Would you mind? Have you no boundaries? Get your crotch out of my face.”

“Why do I get different boundaries from Jaehwan?”

Wonsik curled his lip. This conversation was tiring him, because it was going nowhere - but he sensed that there was a point to Taekwoon coming to speak to him, and he suspected it was to gloat somehow.

“You’ll never be Jaehwan,” he said sourly, and was taken aback to hear Taekwoon burst into a hearty laugh.

It made him feel ridiculously petty, mean, even. He didn’t want to, he wanted to enjoy this silliness that Taekwoon always seemed to bring. But for a little moment, he felt pleased that Taekwoon had found his humour enjoyable.

The others looked up momentarily, and Wonsik was relieved to find Taekwoon had turned to walk back into the house, entertained as he was, and still laughing.

Wonsik ignored the others, a sneaking feeling creeping over him that Taekwoon somehow won a strange round of one-up-manship that he had fallen into playing without realising it. It irked him that he felt irritated by it - and that it kept Taekwoon on his mind.

They had recorded themselves over the few days prior to arriving, and had gone through various missions and games before settling to a more sedate recording of them at dinner.

After waiting long enough, he announced he would be heading back early. Hyuk looked up, his expression artfully blank.

“But we booked the whole house. You’re supposed to go back tomorrow, Hyung. We’re supposed to shoot,” he said, feeling Jaehwan shift away and clear his throat.

“It’s just the closing, I can do that from anywhere, inside the car,” Wonsik said, sounding lame even to himself.

“Just let him go, he has things to do,” Jaehwan muttered into his plate of congealed meat bits.

“I know. This was one of those things,” Hyuk said, glancing at Jaehwan for a moment before looking back at Wonsik, his eyes fighty.

Wonsik looked at Hongbin, feeling a sudden burning feeling in his cheeks, in his chest. The last time he had felt this, he was new and raw enough to be admonished by a senior at the company, and had vowed then never to let himself feel so… disappointed in himself. Hongbin didn’t meet his eyes, but he shrugged as if he was, too. Disappointed.

“Yeah, this was one of those things, Shikkie. Did Daetuck screw up your schedule?”

Wonsik could see it was a sort of out that Hongbin was handing him, but he wasn’t going to throw DT under the bus by blaming him. Well, he realised that that would look even worse.

He could feel a familiar resistance inside, he wanted so hard not to feel this caged feeling, this feeling of being forced into doing something he did not want to do. He knew he was being irrational. No one had ever forced him to do anything.

Then suddenly Taekwoon was by his side again, clamping his bony hand on his shoulder and rubbing him there, a bowl of whisky in his other hand. Wonsik stared at the bowl, one of those copper bowls they served home-brewed makgeolli in at the corner food stalls.

“He just foolishly promised a year’s worth of songs to all his fans, you guys have to understand. He’s too busy to wait til morning!” Taekwoon said, his face benign and smiling as he spoke to the others. Wonsik felt a sort of gratitude for him coming to his rescue, but he stared at Taekwoon’s floppy haired wet slouchiness with something akin to disdain. He had to stop a moment and ask himself why Taekwoon was always rubbing him the wrong way , despite never really doing anything wrong. Hongbin laughed a short laugh - one that Wonsik would have called sarcastic if he could. Then Jaehwan broke into a smile and nodded his head.

“Our Shikkie is spreading his wings!” Jaehwan cooed, smiling at Hyuk, who seemed to be trying to find a reason to smile back.

Wonsik understood that Hongbin and Jaehwan where taking a cue from Taekwoon, and were letting him off the hook. The tension he had felt rising somehow dissipated, but he still felt the sting, of what he came to realise was shame.

He let Taekwoon waggle his shoulder as he sloshed the whisky in his bowl.

“I think it’s time Wonsikkie acknowledged that without me, he would never have taken the first steps-“

“Without you!?” Hyuk and Jaehwan screeched.

Taekwoon’s bowl stopped moving, and he looked at them indignantly.

“Remember Beautiful Liar? Hmm? If I hadn’t held back, he wouldn’t have been able to shine like he did. He would have been drowned out by my throbbing charisma.”

Wonsik rolled his eyes. He was used to this kind of buffoonish bravado that Taekwoon liked to deliver, usually in his deadpan way. But today, Taekwoon with his little bowl, filled with whisky of all things, raising his voice against the tirade of testosterone-y indignation coming from the other three - reminded Wonsik again that there was something about him that both got on his nerves, yet kept him grounded.

He felt like he had been let off the hook in a way that acknowledged his reluctance to stay, but didn’t let him get his way. He supposed it was the best kind of way to acquiesce to the situation, because everyone had their say, but everyone stood down.

“Hyung you could barely string any sentences together, don’t lie!” he said as he shrugged off his hand and went over to sit down next to Hongbin.

Taekwoon followed, his eyes raking over the table in search of something.

“I could, and you know it, I just let you do all the work. I didn’t need the recognition then, like he did,” he said in a soft aside to Hyuk, his smile wide and loopy looking. He finally found what he was looking for - the small tray of ice that was now melted down with just slivers of half-hearted ice cubes swimming in it. He picked up as many dripping slivers of it as he could and slipped them into his bowl, swirling it around, pleased.

“He carried you through all those variety shows, Hyung!” Hyuk cried in admonishment, but Taekwoon waved him off.

“You go back and watch all our episodes. You’ll see. The secret in my eyes. I was just biding my time till I could shine without overshadowing him,” drawled Taekwoon, sipping noisily at the lip of his bowl, looking as if he was drinking soup. He swallowed with great satisfaction, smacking his lips.

Hyuk and Hongbin were cackling, quite delighted by Taekwoon’s playing. Wonsik shook his head, the lightness in the atmosphere dissipating the last of the tension in the air.

He knew Taekwoon, had grown to know him well during their work together alone - especially in the beginning. There was some truth behind everything he said. He believed Taekwoon had confidence from the beginning, it was just that he didn’t know how to fail with sophistication - and the cameras were an added pressure for someone who couldn’t let that go. It was true that, at the time, he was biding his time, in a sense. He was observing, learning, opening up.

Wonsik was not so concerned with making mistakes - but having Taekwoon step back meant that no matter what he did, he did well, because he was the only one doing anything onscreen. It gave him a personality for the camera. As a benign, accepting sort of go-getter. His individual persona flourished.

“Daegunnie is right, I owe it all to him,” he declared, his eyes deliberately void of light and expression.

They all laughed, laughed til it hurt.

And when Wonsik caught Taekwoon’s eye, he thought he saw a glimmer of satisfaction.

**

Later, when it was all but morning, after Taekwoon had taken their pictures as they pretended to slumber on that novelty suspended sleeping net, Jaehwan had carefully stepped off and declared that unless there was a power point to plug his phone in, and a nice mattress pad to protect his delicate skin, there was no way he was sleeping strung up like a dried pollack.

Then later Hyuk, who had actually fallen asleep in the air like that, had eventually woken and stumbled off to bed too, leaving Hongbin, Taekwoon and Wonsik sprawled over the large modular couch as they watched a game mindlessly.

During the break, Taekwoon had stood to check the contents of the fridge, leaving Hongbin to eye Wonsik as he stared belligerently at the ads on the tv.

“Why you so antsy anyway? You knew we had the weekend to spend together,” Hongbin admonished.

Without missing a beat, Wonsik answered, “Who would have known whether I stayed or left anyway? Starlights?”

“Your answer is readier than ever,” Hongbin muttered, taking a swig of his beer. Wonsik could tell his answer had pissed him off.

“We’ll just be sleeping, what difference would it make if I was here or not?”

“The difference is the leaving. We would have slept knowing you left, you prickly asshole,” Hongbin said softly. Wonsik glanced over, to find Hongbin was rolling his eyes as he looked away.

“I’m not prickly,” he mumbled. Hongbin was caught off guard and snorted, half amused.

“A smooth asshole, the worst kind,” Hongbin closed his eyes, sighing. “What would you be running to anyway? The guys can do without you for one night.”

Wonsik was surprised Hongbin thought that.

“You sound jealous,” Wonsik said, a flash of insight, or so he thought.

“I sound jealous because it’s you that’s listening,” Hongbin said, unperturbed. “It’s not like I don’t know what goes on there anyway, Daetukkie Hyung and Woongie always chat with me.”

“I know, I’m in the same chat,” Wonsik said, his voice a whine.

“Oh, so you do know!” Hongbin laughed.

“Seriously, this is what I stayed behind for? This conversation?”

Hongbin shook his head.

“Some of us will awake not realising that you staying was the parallel universe they ended up in and should be grateful for,” Hongbin giggled.

“What the hell does that mean?” Wonsik asked, irritated by the reference.

“It means if they went to bed knowing you didn’t want to be here, or they woke up to find the same, their experience of you would have been completely different. But they don’t know that they have avoided that future. So you saved yourself an awful, awful inner conflict of guilt and regret,” opined Taekwoon, as he trotted over with his newly replenished bowl. Wonsik watched in annoyance as he sat down real slow to prevent the contents from spilling.

“Yeah, guilt.”

Taekwoon sipped at the lip of the bowl, and Wonsik could see it was some sort of milky drink.

“Why the fuck can’t you use a fucking mug like anybody else?” he sputtered, regretting his outburst the moment Taekwoon and Hongbin looked at him as if to confirm his testiness as a symptom of his guilt.

“It’s organic unsweetened chocolate with cinammon, want some?” Taekwoon eyed him, and like a turtle giving him the side-eye, he sipped at it with his lips shaped in a flamboyant sort of pucker.

Wonsik looked at him for a drawn out moment, pissed.

“No thanks, milk gives you bad breath,” he muttered.

“Well unless we’re kissing, who gives a damn fuck?” Taekwoon said sweetly into his drink before closing his eyes to take a deep draught of it.

Wonsik’s eyes widened and he looked at Hongbin, who nodded as he shrugged. “Makes sense,” he said, turning back to look at the screen. “You’d fucking deserve it, if you ask me.” Wonsik banged his fist against Hongbin’s shoulder, and Hongbin banged him back.

Taekwoon swallowed loudly, the satisfaction of it making him groan before he took another sip - and all of it, including that unexpected sentence, made Wonsik feel irritated, irked by those words, the thoughts they conjured up in his head, the dissatisfaction of having to stay against his will, but also because he knew he would feel worse if he had left, the fact that Hongbin wasn’t being the ally he thought he would be, and that Taekwoon was making more irritating sense than he would have liked.

“What does it matter to you anyway, you’re a fucking monk!” Hongbin muttered, lifting the remote to scroll through channels.

Wonsik had nothing to say to that. He wished he had thought fast enough to reply that Hongbin was the same, but the moment passed before he did. He felt like he didn’t fit in his skin, that all his confidence away at his studio, on stage, with his new labelmates, all meant nothing in this sudden discomfiture he felt, feeling separate yet inextricably bound to his brothers, to Taekwoon… it all served to make him irritable and uncomfortable.

He wanted to leave the situation, but pride wouldn’t let him.

So he stayed where he was, letting Hongbin’s words hang in the air uncontested, letting Taekwoon’s presence annoy him, letting his words pervade his thoughts, letting his senses overbear.

When he finally fell asleep, it was across Taekwoon’s back who lay prone on the sofa and watching the screendispassionately, with Wonsik wedged against the sofa as he sprawled over Taekwoon’s warm body.

He slept well, and woke to a bustling house as they cleaned up and packed up their stuff.

Later, after the final shooting and some activity, he went home feeling like he wasted a lot of time - and also that he couldn’t have done anything about it if he wanted to.

Or rather, that he wouldn’t have.

**

The concert days went smoothly, and while he felt his detachment from the stages, he couldn’t help the emotion that surged through him when it came to their speaking moments. It might have been worse if Hakyeon had been granted leave, but as it were, he could only get the next day off - and of course, a day out together had been scheduled.

So, now it was after the last concert and they were having a meal after the show.

Wonsik had to say goodbye to his dance crew, but was able to bring along the Groovl1n boys to their supper.

He let them walk ahead into the restaurant, seeing as Hongbin and Hyuk came forward to greet them, having gotten to know each other from before they re-contracted. Chiwoong and Inseob had both been surprisingly excited to watch their concert, and Wonsik had to stop himself from reminding them that they were about to watch a Kpop concert and shouldn’t get too surprised by what they saw onstage.

But after the show, they had raved about his cool presence, and he was surprised that he could see them gravitating, a little star struck, towards Taekwoon, even though they weren’t trying to directly interact with him. Taekwoon of course, was soaking it up and basking in the attention, even while saying the most irrelevant things and being deaf and distracted all the time.

He guessed it was because Taekwoon’s energy was so different from everyone else’s. Everyone else had the energy of young boys - even the cynicism of Hongbin carried a young energy. Taekwoon, though, he had a different bearing. Wonsik thought it was the musical actor aura creeping in, but then again, Taekwoon had always had that bearing, even before he went into musicals. The bearing of the youngest trying to be the oldest. The bearing of someone who knew exactly what to do, but couldn’t just do it, who needed time. It was a deep sort of knowing or confidence, shrouded by a layer of extreme uncertainty that he had learned to ameliorate by taking on an affable, loopy sort of distractedness. But that layer of silliness could evaporate in an instant, and he could see that the boys saw through it and were intrigued by the man beneath.

He watched as the boys grew silent when Taekwoon strode up the path to the restaurant, clapping Hyuk on the shoulder as he passed. He hadn’t noticed him as he brought up the rear, and was loping up the steps, in through the entrance and disappearing from view as if he had business to take care of.

Wonsik followed everyone in, listening to the conversation as ChiWoong and InSeob asked questions about performing to such a large audience. They were ushered into a private room, where he saw that Taekwoon was already seated next to three or four upper management from their company, including their CEO.

He felt small, following in after everyone, feeling a little awkward, until Taekwoon gestured for him to come sit next to him.

“Sajangnim!” he called, earnestly, and without a touch of sarcasm or humour, then patted the seat next to him incessantly with a fluttering bony hand until he came over to join them.

As Wonsik sat down, Taekwoon leaned over to the CEO and said, “All of Groovl1n are here,” before formally introducing ChiWoong and InSeob to him and gesturing for them to sit opposite. Wonsik listened as Taekwoon pointed out ChiWoong’s soulful voice and Inseob’s introspective vibes, and wasn’t surprised to see them redden and get shy, but puff up at the same time. He knew that feeling, he felt that himself all the time, once. Even now, sometimes.

Daetuck sat next to them, opposite Wonsik, and Wonsik caught a disapproving glance from him. He lifted his chin as if to ask, what?

Daetuck shook his head in a huff and turned to listen to Taekwoon.

It was only a little later after the main course was finished, that Daetuck came over and whispered in his ear, “What the fuck is wrong with you, can you put a goddamn smile on your face for a minute? You’re making the boys uncomfortable.”

He bit the last words out and walked away, going back to his seat in a huff, so that, in Wonsik’s eyes, it looked very obvious that he had been admonished. It took him even longer to realise that Daetuck had meant the Groovl1n boys, and not VIXX.

He was at a loss, feeling as if everyone were waiting for him to make the first move, as if, somehow, he could simply lighten the atmosphere with a joke or an apology.

He hated it.

Hated feeling so in-between, so directionless. He was being swayed by events, by thoughts and feelings, and couldn’t find it in himself to get a grip, on himself, or on the situation. He hated that Daetuck had felt the need to come speak to him, because of both their deference to Hwang CEO.

It was Taekwoon who stepped in, and, Wonsik realised, Taekwoon who had been leading the dinner’s atmosphere all along.

“Daetuckkie must be mad that I introduced the boys, and not you, Shikkie, but I guess I got ahead of myself. It’s something to be proud of, one of us doing such a momentous thing. Starting your own label and with such talents as these two.”

Taekwoon gestured towards the boys, and they looked like they were blushing as they shook their heads.

“It’s something to be proud of, Shikkie,” he said, his hand clamping his shoulder near the neck and rocking him back and forth.

Wonsik stared at Taekwoon, feeling a little like he was being taken for a ride, because when Taekwoon made grand gestures like this, it didn’t sit right somehow. He couldn’t accept it as genuine, or at least, he felt like he could see a tiny something in Taekwoon’s eyes that was always smirking, or deadpan, or something.

“Say, thank you, you bloody mollusc!” Daetuck admonished, his chin being extra Daetuck-y.

Taekwoon interrupted by pulling his hand away and leaning forward conspirationally towards the boys.

“Wonsik is a firm believer in reality. He did all the work, he doesn’t need to thank me for stating the obvious,” he said matter-of-factly.

Hongbin chimed in, “Not to be confused with our reality, which is bound by cultural and societal norms.”

Hyuk laughed, “ Which is a reality Shikkie Hyung doesn’t live in.”

Finally Jaehwan said, “Which is why he is also a rapper who can’t take a compliment, nor remember to introduce his new company members to his old company members and CEO.”

They all laughed, and Wonsik could feel his ears burning suddenly. Yeah. He should have been the one to make the introductions. It slipped his mind.

He was going to say he felt so comfortable he didn’t feel the need to stand on ceremony - but then, tonight he had felt the most uncomfortable with any of them than he had ever felt before.

He realised then, guilt. Again.

And he thought to himself, it was guilt that made him soft, let him soften enough to receive, or to apologize. That’s what happened the night before, and that was what was happening now.

He suddenly felt tired that he felt so much resistance, and that feeling ashamed of himself was what made him give in and laugh it off.

He smiled, trying to put the boys at ease, then joked that he had better things to do than trifle over niceties - which was when the CEO joked that he hadn’t changed, and everything seemed lighter, easier, suddenly.

They finished dinner on an easy note, appreciating the generosity of their CEO, and slowly stood and said their goodbyes as they made their ways to their cars.

He found himself being tailed by Taekwoon as they slowly walked out into the car park.

He looked around for his boys - but Hongbin, Ken and Hyuk had already gathered them into their van.

“Don’t you guys need a lift?” he shouted to them. Chiwoong looked at him sheepishly, already neatly strapped in to the seat he himself would have been sitting in, if he were still going home with VIXX.

“We’re going to the noraebang, Hyung,” he said.

Inseob leaned out from the back and deadpanned at him. “It’s a coming-of-age thing for us. Don’t laugh.”

Hongbin, who was sitting in the front passenger seat next to Hyuk, who was driving in the back, waggled a finger at Wonsik out his window.

“I’m a noraebang virgin!” ChiWoong yelled excitedly, prompting the rest to laugh.

“Well, I can help you with that!” Jaehwan smirked, affecting a cocky puff to his chest.

“I can’t wait!” Chiwoong flashed his dimples, before Jaehwan pulled the rolling side door partly shut and obscured their faces. He gave Wonsik a disdainful look and then turned and pointed at Taekwoon with a wild-eyed stare, one foot inside.

“Don’t you dare try to join us,” he threatened, his upper lip curling. He slowly turned, his eyes trained hard on Taekwoon, who was chewing on a toothpick like a skinny upright cow, before finally hopping into his seat next to Chiwoong and rolling the door shut whilst yelling, “Go go go!!”

Taekwoon snorted, turning to look at Wonsik, who hadn’t reacted fast enough to move.

“Give me a lift,” he said, turning and putting a proprietary hand on the passenger door handle.

Wonsik sighed. Wonsik’s studio was just around the corner from the restaurant, in Cheongdam, whilst Taekwoon probably wanted to go back to his parents’ in Yangjae.

“Let’s go for a drive,” Taekwoon said, rapping his fingertips on the car handle.

“Don’t scratch my paint,” Wonsik muttered, finally going round to the driver’s side and opening up. Taekwoon slid into the front seat, all knees and elbows and boneless in between. His ridiculously large backpack with practically nothing in it got dumped in the back seat.

“I would have thought you would have gone for black, or neon, or Versace Crust, or something,” Taekwoon said, smiling inanely as he drew his seatbelt over his body and clicked it fast.

“White is clean, sophisticated-“ Wonsik began.

“My dad likes white cars too,” Taekwoon said, bending forward to look out of the windscreen and up at the sky.

“Then there’s two things he and I have in common,” Wonsik muttered.

“Oh, am I the other thing?” Taekwoon looked at him, his smile gummy despite the fact that it was all teeth.

“Three things we have in common,” Wonsik tried to hold back sharpness in his tone. He had to laugh, really. Taekwoon’s style was such that he seemed to never see himself at all.

Those three things were liking white cars, knowing Taekwoon, and being concerned that he wasn’t quite like everyone else.

“Oh, okay, you’re going to say you’re as disappointed as he is in me?” Taekwoon looked at him, his eyes still smiling.

Wonsik’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

“What?”

Taekwoon’s eyes seemed to fill, glimmer, as he stared back at him, that stupid smile still on his face.

Wonsik could feel his heart racing. It had felt so raw and vulnerable, and yet so guarded and deliberately self-deprecating at the same time. It seemed to hearken to something deep he had never seen before in Taekwoon. Taekwoon laughed.

“If I wasn’t about to leave for the military I would be taking more acting lessons,” Taekwoon kept smiling, seemingly unaware of Wonsik’s almost-distress.

“Why the fuck did you say that? You really think I think that of you? Or… does your dad really-“

“Shit, Wonsik, I was just kidding. I don’t think that of either of you. I mean, that kind of thing doesn’t bother me. I’m sorry. I was just kidding,” Taekwoon was wide-eyed serious with concern.

Wonsik dragged his hands roughly down his face, finally drawing a deep breath and shaking it off. As he reached for the ignition button, he heard Taekwoon giggle a soft giggle, and didn’t want to look at him for fear of seeing that even that moment was another bit of acting. If that kind of thing didn’t bother him, was he implying that he believed Wonsik thought that of him too?

He felt like he had lost the ability to read Taekwoon. He suspected Taekwoon was trying to get close somehow, and that what he had said was something too true to ignore or stop from bubbling up out of the blue like that. So in essence, he had accidentally gotten much more vulnerable than he had intended.

He started the car and veered out into traffic.

Taekwoon leaned his chair back a little and relaxed into his seat, one leg stretched out and one foot propped on the edge near the car door. He looked languid and chic, staring almost romantically out the window at the city lights, the pedestrians.

“Am I dropping you off at your parents’?” Wonsik asked.

“Can we just drive?” Taekwoon’s voice was soft, plaintive. Wonsik glanced at him. He had his elbow propped against the window sill, his thumb between his teeth, this jaw working minutely as he bit on it.

Without answering, Wonsik turned towards the stadium, intending to follow the highway east along the Han, until he could turn off near Jamsil to head south, towards a road that could then take him towards Yangjae.

Wonsik was genuinely curious. Taekwoon’s energy had changed, become contemplative. Perhaps it was a stupor from a full stomach, perhaps he really did believe he was someone to be disappointed in. Wonsik didn’t want to figure that part out. He felt like he didn’t have the energy to expend trying to help someone’s emotional well-being.

Maybe he just didn’t want to. Maybe because it was Taekwoon.

“I am really proud of you, Shikkie.”

Wonsik was taken aback, but he nodded, thinking that saying “thank you” would come over as a little ingenuine, him being in this frame of mind.

“Are you proud of me?” Taekwoon asked softly.

Wonsik didn’t know why he felt so resistant to the idea of reciprocating. Of course he was proud of him. But why did he have to ask him like that?

“Hyung, you’re a rising star in the musicals world. Besides Hakyeonnie Hyung, you’re the most bankable of us all. What’s not to be proud of?”

“Yes, but are _you_ proud of me?”

Wonsik sensed that this was going in a direction he didn’t know how to navigate, and also one that set his heart beating fast. What was Taekwoon really asking?

“Yeah, sure,” he said, as noncommittally as he could.

He could see Taekwoon nodding, his thumb still between his teeth.

They drove on in silence, Taekwoon suddenly taking a breath and making small talk. He brought up Hakyeon and the timing of their return before Wonsik and Hongbin would be due to enlist. There would be about three or four years during which the full contingent would not be. Then, when he, Hakyeon and Jaehwan were finally out, they would have a year to go back into it.

“Would you be ready for that?” Taekwoon asked, sounding to Wonsik like he was trying to be casual.

“Sure, why not?”

“The last year before you go - wouldn’t you have plans for your company? Wouldn’t you be grooming someone to take over while you are away?”

Wonsik nodded. He had already left contingencies in all his plans for the next five years. He wasn’t surprised that Taekwoon had thought of the eventualities he would have to face before he enlisted. He was taking a leaf out of Hakyeon’s book: preparing ahead of time a schedule of releases that would keep fans happy, even if they weren’t his own music. He wanted the artists under his label to be able to handle press conferences, media releases, variety show appearances, perhaps even show debuts and comebacks, while he was away. He had it all planned. It just had to be rolled out.

“Have you and Hakyeonnie Hyung discussed this already? About us all?”

Taekwoon didn’t answer, just stared out the window.

Wonsik was a little perplexed. Taekwoon had been jovial and boisterous at dinner, and had taken on a bit of a charismatic persona, much more than usual, even making a toast, and being quite eloquent and thoughtful about it too.

He wondered if, as Taekwoon had boasted so grandiosely about himself the night before, he was really capable of being or doing all the things that until now, either Wonsik or Hakyeon did as a matter of course - such as make speeches, create group concepts, manage their personas, speak for the boys.

Perhaps there was some truth in what he had said, drunkenly, the night before, about letting Wonsik take the lead during their promotions. Because it was what he wanted, because he stepped up to do it first. He had thought Taekwoon was joking that he had let him lead, as if it was a favour he was doing him - but he realised now that he might just have been stating an honest truth, as neutral about it as can be.

Taekwoon was what he thought he needed to be, he did what he thought needed to be done. He filled vacuums if he saw them, but didn’t step up if he knew someone else would.

Perhaps it was the way of an overly shy person - but Wonsik had never thought of Taekwoon as shy - or perhaps it was a way of getting attention, a different sort of attention.

The kind of attention Wonsik knew was powerful and everlasting, it seemed. For some, it seemed superficial, a kind of beauty that Taekwoon had in being so still within their circle of youthful chaos, and charismatic. For others, it was something very deep, a look in his eyes, a small word he said that captured feelings precisely.

He was, indeed, captivating.

Well, tonight there seemed to be a vacuum with Hakyeon’s absence, so Taekwoon had stepped in to be the mediator between the boys and the management, the outsiders and the insiders.

He didn’t take charge on stage, because so many of them were happy, eager to take on those roles, where they could let their personalities shine and entertain, where they could steer the tone of the show.

He wondered now, why Taekwoon seemed to be so reticent to speak. Did he fear stepping on Wonsik’s toes perhaps, speaking out of turn?

“Do you have something to say, Hyung?” Wonsik blurted out, knowing how abrupt he sounded.

Taekwoon sighed, clasping his hands together and letting them drop down between his knees as he hunched around himself.

He was quiet, but he sighed again, and Wonsik could tell he was summoning up some courage to speak. He wondered, what could he possibly have to say that required courage?

Wonsik stared ahead, wanting to give Taekwoon time. He knew something was up, and he didn’t want to accidentally make Taekwoon clam up by trying to ask questions.

Crabs needed to be approached side on, and they needed to be allowed to come to you. One didn’t just reach for a crab.

Wonsik smiled. Taekwoon thought he wasn’t, but he was such a crab, really.

He realised that he was, in effect, giving in - to Taekwoon’s unspoken request, or question or statement, and to his own curiosity. Except that now, it didn’t needle at him the way it would have earlier. So, he did what he might have done once, what he used to do a lot when they were all together: he looked for a place where they could stop to talk.

It wouldn’t do for the both of them to take a walk by the river, nor did he want to stop at a convenience store. Restaurants were already shut, and clubs were too loud.

“Hyung, you’ve never seen my new studio,” he rumbled, his eyes already searching for a place to u-turn.

“I have,” Taekwoon said. “I came about a week after you guys moved in, but noone was there except Daetuckkie. I brought you macarons.”

Wonsik suddenly remembered Daetuck mumbling about someone bringing those in.

“Aaah. I hate macarons. Too sweet.”

Taekwoon laughed a short laugh.

“They’re sophisticated and historical. They are made with simple ingredients, using convoluted and myriad methods to make them just right. I thought it would irritate you enough to think of me all day. And to think I was forgotten!”

Wonsik laughed too. This seemed more like Taekwoon.

“Chiwoongie and Inseobie thanked me for them, they don’t mind sweet at all,” Taekwoon turned his head to look pointedly at Wonsik. “You raised them well.”

Wonsik laughed, knowing full well that this was a dig at him for not observing the niceties as well as they did. He did feel a little like their attention to Taekwoon was a little too much, but perhaps they were being polite.

“I will be taking them for dinner this week. You’re not invited,” Taekwoon said, softly, churlishly, and it made Wonsik laugh again.

“They seem fascinated by you,” he admitted, finally finding a place to u-turn and slowing for traffic.

“It’s not me. It’s why me.”

“Huh?” Wonsik grunted as he took his turn and headed back the way they came.

“How did Ravi Hyung get paired with him? What can we ask him about working with Ravi CEO? They’re really interested in what makes you tick. Not me. I’m the musicals guy.”

“No, they ask me about you too,” Wonsik stated matter-of-factly. He really didn’t believe the boys could be curious about anything to do with him anymore. They had gone far enough together to have learnt about working together, being together, already.

He could sense Taekwoon’s interest in that statement, and saw him shift to face him a little in his seat.

“I must remember to thank them for keeping me in your thoughts,” he said softly, a smile in his tone.”They shall eat beef this week.”

Wonsik shook his head, trying to stifle his smile. How Taekwoony Taekwoon was being - he wouldn’t be surprised if all they got was iced americanos and some intense back-patting.

They reached Cheongdam and he went past the restaurant they had eaten at. A few more turns, and he was veering into the underground car park entry of a building, that took them directly to a lift lobby that serviced the floor his studio was at.

He had two floors, actually, one above the other. The first housed the boys’ workspaces and the open lounge and hot desk area which had already been seen on their youtube uploads. The second was his studio, large enough to hold listening parties and meetings - and a back area that was private, which was his living space.

He parked quickly and they got out of the car and walked to the lift. Taekwoon’s enormous floppy unzipped luxury backpack swung back and forth as he loped across the smooth car park floor ahead of him. He reached forward and zipped it up, and if Taekwoon noticed, he didn’t give any sign he did, stopping to wait at the lift with his head bowed, his lip askew as he worried the inside of it with his teeth.

“I’ll press the button, shall I?” Wonsik said pointedly, stepping around him to call for the lift.

Little things like these irked Wonsik - the stopping to wait for someone else to do something he could well do himself. Not noticing that someone had saved his bag from spilling its contents onto the ground. He wondered if Taekwoon was truly in his own world, or if he was putting out signals that some things were to be done by someone other than him, for him.

It used to make him feel like he was being manipulated. Sometimes he felt he was being put in his place.

But when Taekwoon didn’t answer him or acknowledge his sarcasm, Wonsik sensed that Taekwoon’s mind was elsewhere, and it made him think, not for the first time, that when this happened, he was really receding into himself somewhat. He seemed to be almost in a childlike state, purely because he was so caught up in his thoughts that he was too immersed to think of the proper things to do.

It was so opposite to the Hyung who had opened up introductions at dinner and steered the conversation earlier that evening.

Wonsik was reminded that he thought Taekwoon had something to say to him, which was why he had brought him here, so that they could have a place to talk, if he needed to.

They got in the lift, and stood in silence as it ascended to his floor. When it opened, it was to a dimly lit, private lobby, the only doors the main door and a side access to the stairs.

He punched in his code and swung open the steel and glass door, and an automatic sensor light lit the front area with a bright white light. He walked ahead and heard Taekwoon follow him past the welcome counter and waiting room chairs, to a lounge area with a modular sofa, a large wall-mounted tv screen and a small kitchenette beside which stood a large fridge.

“Do you want to see the studio?”

“Didn’t you bring me here to see that? What else is there?” Taekwoon asked.

“My rooms are back through there,” Wonsik pointed to a hallway that ran down the side of the whole floor towards the back.

“You actually live here?” Taekwoon sounded quite surprised. He stared at the hallway entrance, his eyes squinty. “Where does Deongie live? Where do you put all your clothes?” he finally asked.

Wonsik giggled, entertained by Taekwoon’s desire to grasp the logistics of his living situation.

“I have managed, you’ll see. First, let’s check out my studio. I want you to listen to something,” he murmured as he walked past Taekwoon towards the heavy door next to the tv. He pulled it open, walking into a small vestibule in which which another autolight turned on. At the other end of it was another door, just as heavy, that he swung inwards into his studio. He turned on the lights, then adjusted their brightness to a slightly brighter level.

Taekwoon walked in and scoped the setup, nodding as he noticed each new thing.

“It’s so bare,” he murmured. “And less soft-porny than I imagined.”

“Why must you say that?” Wonsik felt a distant memory of being tagged the dirty guy of the group come up. Tapping a control panel that was set into his console desk, he adjusted the lights again, this time bringing up a light pinky purple wash of light.

“Oh. No reason, I guess,” Taekwoon said softly, watching him with an amused smile on his face.

Taekwoon came up beside him and picked up a pot of expensive body cream next to the neat stationery holder. He snorted, putting it back down and tapping it with his finger. Wonsik looked at him, finally, and caught his expression of doubt, catching on to the fact that Taekwoon didn’t believe him at all.

“The rumours are true Hyung. I like to relax by jerking off to the sound of my own voice using essence of Himalayan Yak from a pot.”

Taekwoon laughed, hearty and full, his hand coming up almost to cover his mouth as he threw back his head to enjoy the moment. Wonsik liked the sound of it, it reminded him of an earlier time together when it was just the two of them. He cued up the song he had been working on and tapped the space bar, taking off his jacket as he walked over to the sofa and sat down. He relaxed, leaning his head right back so that he was looking up at the ceiling.

He heard Taekwoon pull up a rolling chair and settle into it, as the strains of a sampled violin started playing. He heard Taekwoon’s murmur of surprise at the unusual opening - unusual for him at least.

“These are your lyrics I used, Hyung. Coming up.”

Wonsik let his body completely relax. He didn’t often let people listen to his songs before they were finished, but he had been ready with this demo for a while. It was only after moving to the new premises, that he had listened to it again and decided that it was ready to be recorded for mastering - for getting to the final step. All he needed was a vocalist.

“My lyrics?” he heard Taekwoon say, a worried note in his voice.

The song opened with the violin sample, which he had chopped up and used to introduce the beat, an off kilter, moody sort of dance song - a sort of emo edm number. Then his own voice, which he had half sung, half whispered into the mic, cradling it close as if it were the ear of a lover, when he had recorded it months ago. He had had to stretch the pitch up to get it to the register he wanted, and knew he sounded tinny and thin.

“This would be you,” he said loudly, to be heard over the music as his voice came in.

_There’s too much_

_We’re side by side,_

_But looking ahead_

_Means I can’t look you in the eye_

_You laugh at my jokes_

_But you don’t get me_

_You touch me deep_

_But you can’t feel me_

_You’ve captured me_

_You’ve taken me_

_You’ve left me behind_

_And forgotten me_

“Why didn’t you use these for yourself?” Wonsik asked as he kept staring at the ceiling, half listening and making mental notes about the song as it played.

“They’re from LR. From when we started,” he heard Taekwoon say unnecessarily. There was a long pause as they listened to the rest of the song. He knew it was ending, so he sat up a little, and found Taekwoon was leaning forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the arm rests and his fingertips touched together in front of him, hovering just above his knees. He was staring at them as he slowly tapped them together, as if he were testing how light his touch could be.

“Hmm? They’re good. I want to use them in this song if you’ll let me,” Wonsik intoned, getting more comfortable as the song faded into silence.

“I just remember having all my songs for the debut vetoed,” Taekwoon said, quietly.

“Ah, Hyung, you’re not telling me you’re still holding on to that? We were always going to go with my songs, you know that,” Wonsik teased.

Taekwoon nodded, a small smile on his face.

“I gave you these lyrics then, and you didn’t use them then,” Taekwoon continued. Wonsik was about to retort with a joke, but realised he heard something a little deeper than Taekwoon’s usual humour.

“So why am I using them now, is that what you’re asking?” Wonsik asked, taking it seriously. He leaned forward, mirroring Taekwoon’s posture and resting his elbows on his knees. He thought about it for a moment, trying to remember how he had come across them and decided to put them to use.

“When I got here, I was setting up and wanted to clean up my hard drives, so I was going through them chronologically, when I came across the text document. Most of my files are songs, so, I wanted to see if I needed it, and opened it. I just liked how raw the words were. They’re not as abstract as some of your lyrics can be. I thought they suited the style of this song, that I already had in the works.”

Wonsik noticed Taekwoon’s gaze flicker away when he commented on the style.

“Was it supposed to be a break up song? Now that I see you I think it might be too personal to you. I don’t have to use them Hyung-“

“It’s not that,” Taekwoon muttered softly, sitting back, away, and closing his arms around himself. “You can use them.”

“What is it? Perhaps I should have asked permission-“

“No, it’s okay, Shikkie, you can use them.”

“Well… what’s wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, they just meant something different then to what they do now,” Taekwoon spoke loudly, gesturing to the console as if the lyrics were inside there.

Wonsik blinked, not sure what was happening. Taekwoon seemed to be saying he was unbothered, but then he was suddenly speaking in a loud and steady voice, and Wonsik knew he was employing some singer’s technique to keep his voice from trembling or some shit. He could sense it in the way he was using his breath. It was like a measured, calming, giant sigh.

If it were any other time, Wonsik would have brushed over it and moved on, because trying to find the meaning in Taekwoon’s words or behaviour was like looking for the unground bean in a sea-ful of coffee. One had to deal with unseen currents and furthermore one was at risk of drowning in an unpleasant drink knowing it was the Taekwoon’s favourite.

“Did you write this about someone?” Wonsik asked, a thought striking him. Taekwoon’s eyes flickered up but at the last moment, he looked away.

Taekwoon got up suddenly, running a hand through his hair. When he finally looked at Wonsik, his eyes were tired, red and bleary.

“Can I use the bathroom?” he asked.

Wonsik was intrigued. Usually Taekwoon didn’t need any prompting to spill anything about anything. Now, it seemed like no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t even get the words out. Wonsik gestured to the outside, telling him where the guest toilet was.

Taekwoon left, and Wonsik spent a few moments staring at the monitors which had the song up on them. Taekwoon was taking forever to open up, and it made Wonsik question whether he really had anything to talk about that was important. Perhaps he himself was imagining too much based on his perception of Taekwoon’s behaviour. Perhaps Taekwoon was just drunk. Perhaps there was nothing to his morose energy at all.

He stood and started turning everything off, looking around at the last minute for his and Taekwoon’s things that he might have left behind. There was nothing, and so he shut the lights and left the studio, half expecting Taekwoon to be ready and waiting outside.

It was quiet, and Wonsik waited a few moments before walking towards the toilet and clearing his throat as he approached.

“Hyung, I’m just gonna go change, be right back,” he called out. He heard Taekwoon clear his throat and say okay.

He continued down the long hallway, lighting up the passage and finally reaching the door to his small apartment there.

It was a studio space, his bed against the far wall under a wide window which he never drew the curtains to because he slept so late in the mornings. If it wasn’t for his cleaner, the room would never be aired - but he did keep it sparse and uncluttered. A large, comfy sofa stood closest to the entry, and between it and his bed was an entry to his wardrobe and ensuite - both about as large as the front room.

Although he rarely tidied, the room looked neat anyway, because he had so little in it. His bed was a rumble of sheets, but besides that contained mess it all he had were a few books, a light and the remotes he needed for the tv and the aircon unit, on his bedside table.

He went straight thru to his ensuite, a rather lavish affair with gilded hardware and marble finishes. He washed his face, letting the water wet his hair, running his wet hands through it til it felt refreshingly cool. He hadn’t intended to shower til he came back from sending Taekwoon home, but feeling suddenly cool and refreshed, he decided to have a quick one.

He stripped, dropping his clothes into the laundry basket and stepping into the shower stall. He washed quickly, taking off the last of his makeup and washing the dried sweat out of his scalp and skin. He finished, towelled off and walked into the room where all his clothes were, quickly choosing a tracksuit outfit and getting dressed.

He got a fright when he walked out into his studio, and found Taekwoon sitting primly on the sofa, facing the tv. He looked up, his face blank.

“I called out several times. Hope you don’t mind,” he said, looking a little haunted.

“It’s okay, I just got a fright,” Wonsik said, walking over to sit on the corner of his bed.

“As you can see, it’s functional,” he said, gesturing to the furniture. Taekwoon nodded.

“I have my own place too, but it doesn’t feel like it’s lived in. It’s not a home,” he said, smiling wanly.

“Yeah I know, it’s like a halfway house where you invite your degenerate musical friends when you can’t bring them home to your parents,” Wonsik snorted, leaning back to lay down. He stretched, and felt the weariness of the day begin to seep into his bones.

“Hyung, I better send you home. I’m getting sleepy,” he yawned.

“It’s okay, I’ll get a taxi or something,” Taekwoon said gently.

“You can stay the night if you don’t mind the couch. There’s extra towels and toothbrushes in the bathroom.”

Wonsik let himself relax, and felt the slumber creeping at the edges of his consciousness. It felt nice to think he could just go straight to sleep, that Taekwoon could spend the night instead of insisting he should go. Please say yes, please say yes, he thought to himself, suddenly not wanting to get up again. He suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of having to get up and get into the car, then the long drive back home.

Before he knew it, he was asleep.

**

Taekwoon stood, transfixed, right by the sofa near the entry into Wonsik’s apartment. Through the open doorway that led into the walk-in wardrobe and bathroom, he could see Wonsik’s reflection in the huge mirror over the vanity in his bathroom - very clearly indeed.

His body hunched over itself as he bent to wipe down the moisture on his skin, and as he straightened up and gave Taekwoon a full frontal view, the hard lines under his taut, golden skin drew themselves down across his body and confluenced across his hips and into his crotch. Taekwoon felt his mouth water as he glimpsed his cock for a moment before he obscured it with his towel and turned around.

He shook out his towel and lifted it to ruffle at his hair to dry it, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement, but drawing down into the trim, boyish waist, where the globes of his ass met with the small of his back. With his narrow hips and thin frame, one still got the impression he was slim, but the bulk he carried in his body from all the packed muscles was starting to show, and it gave him a weight, a groundedness that Taekwoon had started to notice recently. It seemed to give the young Wonsik he knew some bulk, not just in his bearing, but in his being.

Where once Taekwoon had thought of him as brash, ambitious and driving, he could now see that experience and hard work were making Wonsik into a man to be reckoned with. Unaware he was being watched like this, he looked golden, powerful, and relaxed, and Taekwoon had to swallow down a sudden dryness in his throat.

Wonsik turned to come out, and Taekwoon quickly slinked over to the wide sofa, reaching out to steady himself against its cushiony expanse, and sat, prim as could be, staring straight ahead at the tv. In the few moments as he listened to the sounds of Wonsik getting ready, he could hear his breath, too loud, and could feel his heart beating in his throat.

When Wonsik finally came out, Taekwoon turned to look at him with, he was sure, eyes forcibly round and attentive, trying so very hard not to look like he had seen what he had seen.

When Wonsik had lain down. When Wonsik had offered for him to stay. When Wonsik had invited him to sleep here.

Taekwoon calmed himself down when he realised Wonsik was asleep, and stood to walk into the bathroom, his eyes darting over Wonsik’s sprawled out body on the bed.

Extra towels and toothbrushes. Did he often receive guests who stayed the night?

He took a moment to take in the opulence of the bathroom. It was like a hotel bathroom, and he wondered if Wonsik cleaned it himself.

He took off his shirt, unzipped his pants and stepped out of his clothes, picking them up and folding them neatly over the closed toilet seat. It was the first time he had been in Wonsik’s living space for over three years, and he was curious about the details.

Somehow, even during the last comeback for LR, they had managed to keep a professional distance. Or rather, Taekwoon thought dispassionately, he himself had managed to keep a professional distance. Coming together again for a comeback and a concert had initially been an exciting idea, but he soon realised that, while he was trying his best to keep his feelings in check, Wonsik was all but indifferent to the idea of working together. He seemed more excited about getting his music out, about standing out more, which he would, if Taekwoon was the only other person onstage.

Taekwoon didn’t begrudge him the idea - they were too different to be competition for one another. Wonsik was about ready to spread his wings, and he… well, he was just glad to be working with him and being in his space again.

It became more obvious as time went on though, that Wonsik’s focus was ahead, but that he himself was spending too much time and energy trying not to focus on Wonsik. He remembered Hakyeon sliding himself in between them at every opportunity, to try to alleviate the pain of it.

Taekwoon smiled to himself as he soaped up and let the hot water soften his tired muscles. Hakyeon had sensed it before he could get a grasp on his own feelings, and without provocation, had become the willing third wheel, to take the edge off the tension he could feel emanating from himself, he supposed.

He hadn’t realised it at the time, but old feelings were beginning to emerge, to colour his behaviour, old feelings that Hakyeon had sensed, and had intervened,for his sake.

Hakyeon had even gone as far as to confront him and to suggest that he should confess. Taekwoon, knowing that he could possibly destroy what already existed with any sort of unwanted advance, retreated from the idea of such an offensive measure. He had never received any gesture on Wonsik’s part that he might be remotely interested in him that way. And Wonsik always responded to joking advances with disdain or a shut down. No, he couldn’t handle a real rejection at all.

Taekwoon whispered a laughing prayer to Hakyeon, thanking him for his insight and meddling - then his hand strayed across the old puncture wound in his wrist, and he was reminded of the collapse that had almost taken the end of their comeback off the rails.

He sobered, lifting his face up to the spray, letting the water jet over his forehead like a rough caress.

It was just a physical ailment requiring a drip, but it symbolised his realisation that, what Wonsik was to him, he wasn’t to Wonsik. He realised quickly that his illness was enough of a concern for Wonsik that he wanted to make sure he was okay, but not enough to have him be concerned that he wasn’t looking after himself in the first place. That he hadn’t gone out of his way to be with him at the hospital like Hakyeon had, was what had stuck with Taekwoon.

Taekwoon’s hands slowed as he lathered his skin. At the time, he had asked himself what he was thinking, hoping perhaps that his illness might awaken some fear for him in Wonsik, or open Wonsik’s eyes to something between them that he might not have been aware of? Taekwoon understood quite clearly that whatever was going on with his feelings and his hopes for their partnership, it was one sided, and his view of their relationship much more coloured with sentiment than Wonsik’s was. He knew that if he didn’t pull himself together, to get out of his feelings, it was going to be detrimental to his psyche.

Taekwoon rinsed, turning under the shower to feel the water on his head and shoulders.

He had found some strength in him, some fortitude, or some distraction, to move forward and on to planning his own solo ventures. He had found a freedom from that… he supposed it was a crush… and let himself be free. Freer. And he had discovered, he enjoyed focusing on himself and receiving complete attention.

He got busy. He got well. He thrived.

But now, Hakyeon was gone, and he felt his missing presence sorely. Despite being able to communicate with him, there were things he couldn’t relate to him with, as he was now separate from them and had other concerns on his mind.

And, after a few months being absolutely fine without Hakyeon around, when he found himself working closely with Wonsik again for their concert and the variety show, seeing him with what he considered to be distanced objectivity - he found himself falling again. Falling all over again. Though it was a little different this time.

Now, he was his own artist, and so was Wonsik.

Now, they had distance and experience as soloists and had worked extensively with other artists in their own fields, and when he looked at Wonsik properly, looked at him from his own perspective of having hustled and worked and focused on his own growth too, he couldn’t help but admire the person Wonsik had become, and wish that somehow, Wonsik would see him in that light too. He didn’t just want Wonsik to see him as someone to be attracted to, or interested in. He wanted his respect.

Taekwoon frowned. He had not even given Wonsik much thought prior to them coming back together for their rehearsals, and didn’t even hearken back to when he had those first feelings. Or those recurring feelings. Even when they had recorded their anniversary video, the first time Hakyeon’s absence was felt, there was nothing to suggest that he even had any part of him that was pining-

Taekwoon stopped, choking on the thought.

He was pining, pining for Wonsik, and the thought suddenly filled him with despair.

He felt betrayed by his own heart, by his own body, for deciding that what he wanted most now, was to have Wonsik see him, to really see him, and to reciprocate somehow, miraculously, with his own feelings for him.

He felt that there was a part of him that he had no control over, a base part of him that just followed its desires, and in fact, had control over him.

He shut off the water abruptly and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and rubbing it roughly over his skin.

Water was dripping into his eyes, down his face, and his eyes felt raw and red. He couldn’t stand it.

He couldn’t stand going from enjoying a weekend with his brothers, staving off a dire situation with Wonsik wanting to leave, having dinner and enjoying the company of everyone back together again - to this.

This awful, awful need. This missing of someone who had no idea.

He wondered at what moment his rather cerebral entertainment of the idea of Wonsik suddenly acknowledging him that way, had turned into this almost melancholic despair that it might not ever happen.

_Probably the moment I saw his dick in the mirror and wished I could put my mouth on it._

Now it felt as if the universe had shown him what he did not, could not have.

He huffed, blinking away tears and rubbing at his hair. He could feel himself become erect, and it made him feel lonely and unwanted to be getting all horny in the bathroom of his host and crush - who was unconscious, and might as well be even when he was awake, he had no idea.

He flung the towel over the rack and gathered his things, walking naked out into the walk-in wardrobe completely intent on wearing Wonsik’s clothes to bed. It gave him a vague satisfaction to think that maybe Wonsik might be pissed he did.

He put his own stuff on the island dresser and glanced around the room. Despite the colour and brash styles hanging up and on display, Wonsik’s wardrobe had a gentleman’s style to it, and it was neat and ordered, out of care for all the items. These things were an investment in himself, and Taekwoon could see that in spite of the hip hop and luxury, there were more than a few pieces that were sleek, tailored and restrained in style. It was a side of Wonsik that he didn’t really show that much, an understated, unharried, unrushed side of him that liked to look groomed and sleek sometimes.

Taekwoon opened a random drawer, to find folded concert merchandise tops. He pouted as he flipped through them all, and chose a bright orange Microdot hoodie, hoping that it would piss Wonsik off that he didn’t choose one of his own shirts. He found some jogger sweatpants and pulled them on, grabbing the hoodie and walking out into the studio bedroom.

Wonsik was snoring lightly, completely sprawled out over his bed like some rickety starfish. Taekwoon felt a momentary pull in his chest, a feeling that somehow, it was empty there inside his chest and within the space of his arms, and that what should be there was something warm and Wonsik-shaped, that would respond to him when he tightened his arms around him.

He turned abruptly, feeling stupid and weepy again, and wondered how the evening had come to this for him. Probably the whisky from the night before, and all the alcohol they had consumed from dinner.

He shut off the lights, leaving the one in the wardrobe on for the night, and went to lie down on the sofa. As he got comfortable, he hugged his arms around his chest and turned onto his side, thinking over the night’s events.

He hadn’t really thought much about it til their weekend away. He could see Wonsik was feeling a little separate from everyone else, and Taekwoon specifically remembered feeling like that himself very early on in their group's relationships. That it was Wonsik experiencing that, opened his eyes a little to the softness within that he never really showed anyone, not even when he was fawning over someone, or paying them special attention.

Taekwoon had naturally found himself doing what Hakyeon usually did: finding the spot between two opposites and fitting himself between them, drawing attention to himself solely to distract from the original issue. He had always recognised that that was what Hakyeon was doing, even though he himself wasn’t one to take on that role. That came later, when he became much more comfortable being silly on camera, and dropping that exterior which he had clung to for so long.

Now that Hakyeon wasn’t around, he slipped into that behaviour easily, understanding it, knowing its purpose.

And in doing so, he had opened himself up to Wonsik’s little predicament, which in turn reopened his own longstanding one.

How was he supposed to ignore that all those years ago, he had been in love, and had hidden it away and gotten over it, and for so long hadthought that he was fine? How was he supposed to do that when a series of incidents over a day or two were all it took for him to see the Wonsik he had always seen: a man to be admired and loved.

Taekwoon felt the despair rise in his chest, and tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

He didn’t think he could do this again, be close to someone who didn’t notice him. Didn’t notice his predicament. Had no idea.

He didn’t think he could handle it without that third person to pull his focus away.

He didn’t think he could bear it at all.

**

Wonsik started awake, looking around immediately for Taekwoon, whom he remembered was about to answer if he was staying the night. It was dark, and he felt his heart drop as he realised that Taekwoon must have left.

He meant to hear him out, he meant to find out what it was that was making him sigh every other moment, what was taking him so long to get off his chest.

He was absolutely sure he was going to divulge some big secret, something personal, and he was leaning towards the suspicion that Taekwoon had either met someone, or was missing Hakyeon terribly, or wanted to leave the group.

Wonsik knew it was unlikely to be the latter. Taekwoon wasn’t one to go completely solo if he could help it. He liked teamwork, he liked working. He liked creating and feeling appreciated. He only thought that could be a possible thing because of the reticence Taekwoon seemed to display in trying to come out and say it.

Wonsik knew that Taekwoon’s sometimes clingy sort of affection and attention didn’t always go down well with others - but everyone at their company and in their group had varying levels of acceptance of it, which had allowed him to express himself in a safe space. Truth be told, he rarely did it. It seemed to spring from a desire to participate on camera, and being like that was how that desire manifested.

There was a point though, when Wonsik began to feel that he was the only one who wasn’t receiving the same sort of attention - and that whenever it seemed they might find a more physical camaraderie than they had, someone, usually Hakyeon, would interrupt them, and make it about him.

Wonsik stilled, realising that his thought was indeed, truer than at first it had seemed. Taekwoon rarely showed him that kind of affection. He was usually touchy feely with everyone, but with him they were always at a distance, never like he was with Hyuk or Ken, in particular.

He wondered if there was some residual misgiving that Taekwoon harboured that he was unaware of. He and Taekwoon had always had a little distance, which their cool image as LR seemed to perpetuate. Any silliness between them was airy, intellectual, and came out in language and situation rather than physical play.

He tottered over towards his bathroom, then suddenly realised Taekwoon was there, his long body curled up and small on his couch.

He was a bright orange pumpkin glowing in the half light of his room. Wonsik slowed, finally realising that Taekwoon must have taken clothes from his wardrobe. How long had he been asleep?

He could see tiny shivering movements, and realised Taekwoon must be cold, so he went past into the other room and opened a cupboard to find a light blanket. He returned, opening up the blanket and laying it over him quickly.

Wonsik didn’t feel like he wanted to get too close to Taekwoon, somehow, didn’t feel like he should touch him without him knowing. Yet, as he laid the blanket over him, he let his hands shrug the ends around Taekwoon’s shoulders, and in doing so, realised that Taekwoon was awake, staring at him with round, shocked eyes.

For a moment, he stood transfixed as their eyes met.

But Taekwoon wasn’t just shocked, he was crying. He wasn’t cold, he was shaking… Why would Taekwoon cry?

And it was obvious that until he was standing in front of him about to cover him, Taekwoon hadn’t realised that Wonsik was awake. And now, aware that he was in distress. Wonsik stared, aghast.

“Wonsik-“

“What’s wrong!?” Wonsik was aware he sounded a little dramatic. He shrugged off the thought, he supposed this was how people sounded when they had to ask this sort of intense question.

Taekwoon sat up, wiping his tears away with the back of one hand and sniffing hard. The blanket fell from his shoulders, and he dragged it close around him, as if in modesty. Sitting up hid his face from Wonsik, and he turned away even more when Wonsik sat down at the end of the sofa, trying give him a bit of space.

He realised sitting down was crowding Taekwoon, he was practically recoiling from him. It was baffling.

“What’s wrong, Hyung?” he asked, this time, gentling his voice and turning a little to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Ah, Wonsik. I didn’t think you were awake,” Taekwoon whispered, his voice thick from crying. “Don’t worry about me, I’m just stressed.”

“Stressed?” Wonsik couldn’t hide the doubt in his voice. He knew when Taekwoon was stressed. Stressed Taekwoon drank too much wine and stared into space alone at home, or so he liked to brag. He never cried unless it was goodbye or some stupid happiness.

“Everything’s over, what is there to be stressing about? Are you worried about leaving? I mean… you’ll be fine in the military, Hyung. I think it might suit you very well.”

He sensed that what he said had captured Taekwoon’s interest, as he had stilled, bowing his head. He followed on that thought, wanting to keep Taekwoon from distancing himself, to keep him engaged.

“I’ve always thought you would be the most suited for the service anyway, and not just because of your dad. You like working as part of a unit. Even if you’re leading, you’re always supporting.”

Taekwoon wiped his nose and sniffed, not looking at him but definitely listening.

“You’ve thought about me going away?” he asked in a small voice.

Wonsik blinked. Taekwoon was asking that?

“Well, yeah I guess so,” he answered, hesitantly. He stared at Taekwoon, whose eyes were red from crying. He must have been crying a long time for them to have gotten so red. His fine eyes were puffy, his nose red and his lips almost beestung from crying.

“Would you like some water?” he asked, looking up into Taekwoon’s eyes. He saw that Taekwoon was looking at him, as if trying to absorb something more than visual, some sort of information that he needed, such was his searching expression.

“What were you crying about?” he asked, finally giving in to the question that was hanging in the air between them.

Taekwoon lifted his hand to his face, and stroked tiredly at the corner of his eye, a gentle pulling on his eye lid which squeezed out the wetness and streaked his fingertips with tears. He stared down into his lap as he did so, and Wonsik couldn’t help feeling he looked so forlorn, so unlike himself.

“You can’t talk about it?” he asked, his voice now gentle, kind. Taekwoon shook his head slowly, looking even more miserable as fresh tears seemed to seep into his eyes again, falling down his cheek faster than his slow rubbing could squeeze them out. He still had his head bowed, but Wonsik could see a sob threatened to escape past his lips, his breath was quickening, his mouth beginning to turn down at the edges.

“Hyung, you need to talk to someone. If you won’t talk to me,” Wonsik didn’t mean to, but his tone came out affected, and he realised he sounded offended that he wasn’t who Taekwoon wanted to open up to. He also realised, maybe he was.

“I can’t,” Taekwoon said, his voice small and whispery.

“But it’s hurting you, whatever it is. I’m willing to listen if you need to get it off your chest-“

“I can’t talk to you,” Taekwoon said, sounding a little more urgent, upset.

Wonsik felt a sudden anger rise.

“You mean someone won’t let you?”

Wonsik was surprised to see Taekwoon shake his head in frustration, finally wiping his eyes harshly with both hands. He suddenly laughed, bitter.

“No, I mean I can’t tell _you_. What is making me cry,” he said, finally looking Wonsik in the eye with a red rimmed glare.

Wonsik was taken aback. He couldn’t help his demeanour, he felt himself going cold. He felt his anger turn, and deepen.

“But you can tell someone else, is that what you are saying?”

Wonsik was irked to see the frustration he felt echoed in Taekwoon’s eyes before he rolled them and made to turn away. He reached out and caught his arm, pulling on him.

“In all the years we have worked together, you haven’t ever trusted me with anything like this, have you?”

Wonsik registered the utter surprise in Taekwoon’s face as he spoke, and in the back of his mind realised that while he was going off, he hadn’t quite read Taekwoon’s intentions right.

“No matter how close we have gotten, you’ve always turned to Hakyeonnie Hyunng, or Hyukkie, or anyone else-“

“What?” Taekwoon looked genuinely taken aback.

Wonsik plowed on, working himself up even though, in the back of his mind, he could see that what he was thinking was not quite right. He could feel himself working hard to keep his momentum, though mentally he was already running out of steam.

“I don’t understand you, is that it? I couldn’t possibly know what you’re going through? I can understand you going to Hakyeonnie but seriously, it’s like you would talk to anyone but me!”

Taekwoon gasped, and just stared at him with his mouth open and a frown knitting his brows. Despite his wet, red face, the look in his eye was enough to silence Wonsik. It was disdain, maybe contempt. Or worse, disappointment tinged with a real, deep anger.

“I don’t think you realise how much I have tried to share things with you - but you like to keep your distance, Wonsik-“

“Me? It’s like I don’t exist sometimes, the way you ignore me. It’s like nothing I have to bring to the table is good enough,” Wonsik said, regretting how pathetic his words sounded as soon as he said them.

The shock in Taekwoon’s face was genuine, and Wonsik hated to see it.

“I just told you how proud I am of what you have achieved. Of who you are. How could you think that of me?”

The hurt in Taekwoon’s voice made Wonsik feel like shit.

He blinked, unsure of how to respond, now that he was seeing himself from Taekwoon’s point of view.

Wonsik couldn’t stand it. It felt like years of noticing that he wasn’t quite being let in by Taekwoon, that there was some distance between them despite having made the kind of music they had made together, despite working so well together, and really, becoming such an important aspect of how VIXX was perceived… and yet between the six of them Wonsik felt the biggest distance was between himself and Taekwoon.

But when he thought of it, really thought of it, he felt that there was something missing, that there was a strange baselessness to this conversation that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Why were they even fighting?

“Hyung, do you have something to say to me? You’ve been avoiding it all evening. Whatever it is, it’s confusing me - I don’t even know why we are having this conversation, I mean, you got in my car, you seem like you have something to say. And now, we are fighting, and I don’t even know what this is about.”

He stared right back at Taekwoon, letting his own resentment show, his chin jutting aggressively as he gazed back at him.

“And you can be mad at me for saying that you would rather talk to someone else than me? I have been asking you all night what-“

Taekwoon seemed irked by it, spurred on by it, to speak.

“I’m in love with you, you stupid, mother fucking idiot.”

Wonsik blinked again. His brain couldn’t process the meaning of the words that were delivered with what seemed like such jarring resentment.

Taekwoon huffed, and seemed to remember himself, where he was. He suddenly pushed himself off the sofa, awkwardly getting up as Wonsik sat half in his way, and walked out of the room into the bathroom. Wonsik looked down at his hands, which were resting over his knees.

Taekwoon was in love with a stupid mother fucking idiot?

He heard a rustling, then sensed Taekwoon coming out of the other room, his stride urgent and angry. He looked up just in time to see him pitch the balled-up hoodie at him so hard it stung his eye when it hit him. He caught it before it fell to the ground, then felt the pants whip against him too. He had changed back into his own clothes.

“Thanks for the tour,” Taekwoon muttered, stopping momentarily to snatch up his phone and wallet from the table before walking towards the door where his bag was.

“Hey!” Wonsik was pissed. Why was Taekwoon so angry at him? What the fuck was this behaviour?

He jumped up, following him to the door and holding it shut with his hand, coming round to face Taekwoon as he leaned against it. He suddenly regretted that, feeling it was a little too impulsive, because now he was practically nose to nose with him, and Taekwoon was closing his eyes, unwilling to see him, unwilling for him to see the distress in his face. He stepped back a little.

“Don’t,” he seemed to bite out the word through his clenched teeth. “Let me out.”

“Mother fucking idiot? Me?!” Wonsik hit the door with the back of his clenched fist as he squared up to Taekwoon.

“Let me out, Wonsik,” Taekwoon’s pitch rose a little, and Wonsik was irritated by the panic he heard in his voice. He was acting like the victim when he was blaming him for whatever this was.

“Why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry-“

“You’re walking out-“

“I can’t-“

“You say that and then leave?” Wonsik stepped closer, incensed. All this time, all this time?“You tell me you love me and then get mad at me for.. for what!?” He laughed a short, derisive laugh.

“Why do you care? Now? Why does it matter now?” Taekwoon suddenly lifted his head, his face heated. Wonsik wanted to retort, wanted to make his stand, but he also wanted to have Taekwoon stay and speak. He stared back at him, his breath quickening, just as Taekwoon’s seemed to still.

Taekwoon, for all his languid posture, seemed to tower over him as he lifted his head, the expression in his eyes, for once, looking on him cold, and unreachable. Wonsik had missed the point at which the change happened. He didn’t see what thought it was that changed Taekwoon’s demeanour.

“Why are _you_ angry, Wonsik? Has it been unfair? Do you hate that you were in the dark? That I harboured this secret from you, that I tried to save myself this pain? This… humiliation?”

Wonsik gaped at the flare of passion in Taekwoon’s last word. Taekwoon’s hands fisted by his side as he broke the gaze again, trying to gain control over himself. He continued, staring down at the floor, his eyes tired and stinging, his mouth pinched as he spoke.

“Do you mean to imply that if you had known-“ Taekwoon stopped himself, unable to say the words. He seemed to be grappling with some inner conflict, maybe trying to decide between two trains of thought. Wonsik took the opportunity to say his piece.

“How could I have known? I never saw anything, you never said anything-“

Taekwoon’s face crumpled, and he lifted his hands to cover it. He was shaking, his long fringe trembling over his fingers as he seemed to grip his face in despair. Wonsik heard him sob, and it alarmed him to hear his breaths become short and sharp, his shoulders rising and falling too quickly.

“What am I saying wrong? Why is this getting worse?” he cried out, wanting to be heard over Taekwoon’s hyperventilating, and suddenly realising that he had no foothold, no idea about how to get Taekwoon to listen to him.

He tried to formulate what it was he wanted to say, but found he didn’t even know what he meant to convey.

“Hyung-“

“Stop talking to me. Stop talking. Please,” Taekwoon was speaking between breaths, trying, it seemed, to control his hyperventilation and distress. He wavered, and had to take a step to balance.

“I need to lie down,” he muttered, spinning suddenly and staggering back to the sofa. He fell onto it, facing the back of it with his hands clutched together over his face, and Wonsik realised he was managing his breath to stop the dizziness. He could see Taekwoon’s fingers straining, as if they were freezing into position and saw his knuckles turning white as they seemed to lock.

“Are you okay? Can I do anything?” he asked, alarmed at the cramping he could see in Taekwoon’s fingers.

Taekwoon just shook his head momentarily, trying to take slower, deeper breaths. Wonsik stood over him, watching, helpless. He turned to pick up the blanket that had fallen to the ground and lay it across Taekwoon’s legs, but he thrashed at them, kicking off the blanket so that it fell back down to the ground at his feet.

“No, no,” Taekwoon murmured, and Wonsik saw his frown deepen in his brow. Taekwon took a deep breath, stilling as much as he could, and swallowed several times, as if to moisten his throat.

“It’s too hot,” he mumbled, his hands slowly loosening, finally, till they gentled over his face. Wonsik could see that Taekwoon’s eyes and brow were pinched tight, as if he had a terrible headache and couldn’t open his eyes.

“I’m gonna pass out. I’ll be okay. Just let me…” Taekwoon was mumble-whispering, his speech slurring a little as he took slower, deeper breaths. Wonsik could feel the exhaustion in his voice, and watched him carefully as the tension slowly, slowly, left his body until he was asleep.

Wonsik looked carefully at Taekwoon, saw that in his sleep, his face had relaxed and become like a child’s, unmarked by any of the stress that he had just been experiencing. His eyelashes were still wet, his closed eyes fine lines against the slant of his cheekbones. His jaw was relaxed, and soft puffs of breath came out of his mouth as he breathed out in his slumber.

His arms were now a bony heap between his body and the back of the sofa, and Wonsik was tempted to untangle them to prevent them going numb, but he didn’t want to wake Taekwoon, now that he was resting. He didn’t know how to feel about the episode, not from never having had to deal with something like this, but because of why it had happened.

He sank to the ground, resting his side against the sofa seat and supporting his chin in his hand as he rested his arm along the seat length. Taekwoon’s back rose and fell gently with each of his breaths, and he stared vehemently into the exposed part of his neck, bony and pale, with the chain of his necklace slinked across it.

In love with me.

Wonsik felt the words in his mouth, as if he were saying them. Taekwoon could have insisted on not saying anything. He could have lied and said it was about something else, or someone else. But he came straight out and said it like he was making some sort of declaration under oath.

And then he had called it pain. Humiliation.

He shook his head, a thought that had been worming its way through his mind from the beginning of their exchange, slowly coming to the fore. That he had practically accused Taekwoon of never coming to him, never trusting him with his problems, was what had made Taekwoon so angry. It was what had made him blurt out those words so clearly, as if he were resigned to whatever grief - or pain or humiliation - it would bring him to reveal himself so.

Wonsik recognised that those were the actions of a man who felt wronged and needed to say his piece. The actions of someone who felt that letting it go would subsume some part of themselves in anger or regret, if they didn’t act.

So Taekwoon could not stand for Wonsik to think that he was the one who withdrew his trust from Wonsik, that he was the one who didn’t reciprocate.

Which meant that Taekwoon must believe that he, Wonsik, was the one who didn’t trust.

Taekwoon must believe that in fact it was Wonsik who was unreachable, unresponsive, unwilling to listen. And that Wonsik accusing him of the same seemed unconscionable enough for him to set the record straight by risking himself with that one, ridiculously loud and clear message: I’m in love with you, you stupid mother fucking idiot.

Wonsik closed his eyes and buried his face in the couch fabric.

He suddenly saw what Taekwoon’s distance from him meant, or at least, the distance he perceived to be what Taekwoon reserved especially for him.

It hurt to be seen so, hurt that Taekwoon had kept himself secret from him for so long.

**

_2015_

“Hyung, you will be all in monochrome, you will be the one who can’t be honest. And I will be in colour, I will be the one who wants the truth and nothing but the truth,” Wonsik said, sighing with irritation. He felt like he had been describing the concept over and over.

Taekwoon had looked at him, his teeth worrying the inside of his lip as he stared right at Wonsik, those eyes dark.

“It’s just passive. I don’t like it.”

“But we’re the same person!” Wonsik threw up his hands in despair.

Hakyeon had stood and came forward, leaning against the back of Taekwoon’s chair and gripping his shoulders.

“It isn’t passive, and it suits your persona. Don’t you have faith in the concept Taekwoonnie?” he had asked, his voice light.

Taekwoon wrenched his glare away from Wonsik’s and looked up at Hakyeon’s reflection in the glass wall behind Wonsik. Wonsik rolled his eyes. Ignored again.

He realised Taekwoon had noticed him roll his eyes, and he caught an expression almost like a flinch pass over his face as he looked down into his clasped hands. When he finally spoke, his voice was thin and whispery, and Wonsik had to strain to hear him.

“I believe in the concept, Hakyeonnie. But there is a reason for the lie. He isn’t just afraid. He just doesn’t want to hurt her. There’s nothing passive about that.”

Wonsik nodded. Taekwoon was right - in fact, he seemed to see more than what he himself initially envisioned for the song, for the music video.

“So what do you suggest, Hyung?” he had asked, his voice a low rumble. He had noticed Taekwoon take a sharp breath as he seemed to compose himself.

“The reason you fight is because I am the gatekeeper to his emotions. _Our_ emotions. The harder you fight, the harder I will fight back. So I am not passive. I am standing my ground. And you are adamant that you are right, and so am I, and we are both, in fact, right. It’s just that you want to be true to yourself, and I want to be true to her.”

“But you would be lying, that’s the point-“

“Yes, but I would be true to her. I would be giving her what she wants, and not dragging her heart out of her at the same time.” Taekwoon was raising his voice.

“But-“

“True to her. But not true to you.” Taekwoon’s tone was final, and whilst Wonsik didn’t like the feeling of being bested, he couldn’t help but feel that Taekwoon seemed to get him, seemed to get him like no other.

Hakyeon beamed, looking at Wonsik with a modicum of pride. Wonsik had to admit, he had nothing to say to Taekoon’s fine logic.

“It sounds even better when you say it like that. Clever Taekwoonnie!” Hakyeon gushed.

Taekwoon let himself be shaken and clapped around the shoulders, his morose features never changing.

They ended their meeting, confirming with the writer what their final decisions on the music video were, and gathering up their things to leave. Wonsik wondered why Taekwoon had been so retaliative and unaccepting of his proposal for the storyline for the Beautiful Liar video and concept, and he watched him out of the corner of his eye as they both packed up their stuff. Hakyeon had left with the PDs but he was hanging around outside waiting for them.

“What was that about Hyung?”

“What, me making better sense of your own song than you?” Taekwoon said, curtly.

“Is it because I got the title song?”

Taekwoon slammed a script onto the table.

“Why are my songs depressing but your Sentimental Lying Song isn’t?”

“Sentimental lying is much sexier, Hyung,” Wonsik retorted. To his surprise, Taekwoon laughed.

“So is anything vaguely homoerotic,” Wonsik added, hoping to make him laugh for longer. But Taekwoon quieted, nodding.

He seemed to take a moment, as if thinking over what he was about to say.

“Well, I must agree with that,” he said softly, looking up at Wonsik.

Wonsik looked back, thinking he was going to say more, but when he didn’t he cocked an eyebrow in questioning.

Taekwoon seemed to take a breath, but then his expression changed as he glanced over his shoulder just as Hakyeon blustered in and asked them about going for lunch.

They left, they ate.

On the shoot day, Taekwoon had been made up and styled perfectly, and he also fit his role perfectly, and he seemed to flourish under the quiet attention they were receiving, only the two of them on set. Despite their initial troubles prior to this point, they found an ease in each others’ company, and Wonsik had felt Taekwoon slip into a sort of unthinking, companionable humour with him.

And when they shot that final scene, when Taekwoon had to hold him back, had to grapple with him until she left, Taekwoon had held him fast, his breath deep and raw, held him down and close, for just a few moments longer than necessary after the director had yelled cut.

He had let him go as the crew began clapping, as the PD declared the shoot over, and had sat up, stood up quickly, bowed politely and clapped along with the crew, all the while avoiding Wonsik’s questioning gaze.

And when he had come just a little too close as they left the studio, Wonsik had sensed Taekwoon freeze and step away.

After that, it was several days before they came together again for the comeback, and during that time, Taekwoon seemed to fall into his concept character, only emerging every now and then in a moment of forgetfulness, when he would smile, or laugh freely, when Wonsik was too focused on their work to realise that those moments had felt like flashes of sunlight to him.

And when they were done, Taekwoon had slinked away like he seemed to do, and when they met again, it was as part of six - and that sense that something else had bloomed between them in the absence of everyone else, was gone.

**

Wonsik lifted his head, regret filling his heart. He looked up to find that Taekwoon was gone, that he had folded up the blanket neatly before he left.

He got to his feet, feeling upset, again, that he hadn’t woken in time to stop him. He wondered how Taekwoon must have felt, waking up to the memory of his admission the night before, and tidying up while Wonsik slept all crouched on the floor like he had.

He remembered that today they were meeting Hakyeon for dinner.

He went to the bathroom, washed up and dressed hurriedly, thinking that maybe he could see Taekwoon beforehand, and hoping against hope that that wasn’t a bad idea. For something like this, perhaps pretending nothing had happened, or racking it up to drunken bullshit, could be the best thing to do.

But for Wonsik, because of the very nature of their situation, avoiding it, ignoring it, hiding it, would be absolutely the wrong thing to do. Especially now, when he knew.

He had to find Taekwoon, and ask him, had it been since then? Had it been for so long?

He had to know, because now it all seemed to make sense, and now time seemed to have begun from that point.

He also realised, he too had something to say, and that it wasn’t just something he himself needed to do, but something that should be done anyway, for Taekwoon’s sake. He needed to say, that if he wasn’t such a distracted, hard-driven dumbass, he might have picked up on some clues, and he too, might have looked at Taekwoon the way he might have wanted. Back then.

Wonsik wondered whether he even knew himself at all. When he thought back through all the potential times he might have acknowledged some feeling between them, he realised he had no memories of wanting to act on such a feeling or such a time. His urge to do this now was spurred from a feeling, a knowing, that this was right.

It was like his eyes had been opened to himself, and he wondered if he might just be some pushover with no real discernible understanding of his own feelings.

Until Taekwoon had said those words, had he ever really harboured any desire for him himself?

Wonsik didn’t think he had really ever thought of Taekwoon as available to him, so he had never entertained the idea. But if he had made the connection, and if he had ever asked himself at the time, if he could desire Taekwoon for who he was, he knew, he could.

All he knew now was that he wanted to make things right for Taekwoon, and part of making things right for him was to let him know that he should have seen what was going on. That he would have been open to it, if he had even thought it was possible. That he hadn’t seen the signs, because he hadn’t believed in their possibility.

He now knew how what the hurt was that had made Taekwoon so upset last night. He now knew that Taekwoon had seen from the beginning what was potentially between them - whilst he had never even seen any possibility. He asked himself if his obliviousness was truly unconscious, or was there some part of him who had seen the signs, but decided that Taekwoon was either not available to him, or was not really interested in him, or maybe, that he was out of his league?

Wonsik paused, thinking that maybe, he had believed Taekwoon was out of his league, being older, more involved with the others, being a finer creature than he was.

How presumptuous of himself if he had ever thought any of those thoughts.

Wonsik shook away the feeling that he had missed some golden opportunity because of his own assumptions, conscious or unconscious. He thought of the now. Despite the fact that he was late to his own feelings, didn’t the fact that he was feeling them, and feeling right about them, mean that he felt for Taekwoon? Perhaps as intensely as he, even though he was just waking up to those feelings now.

It suddenly became very urgent that he should make himself clear to Taekwoon. He did not want him to hurt anymore. He could not bear the thought that Taekwoon might have gone through the same experience as last night, alone, somewhere, sometime, over and over, because of him.

He opened the door to the outside and practically walked into Taekwoon, who was standing there about to knock. He yelped, his voice breaking loudly.

“Shit, Hyung! What the fuck, you scared me!” He clutched at his chest, his heartbeat spiking. Taekwoon swallowed, his gaze decidedly fixed at the hand on his chest as he seemed to try to summon the courage to speak.

“Shikkie, I wanted to apologise. I have been a burden and I want you to just believe me when I say I was drunk and stupid-“

“Hyung.”

Taekwoon clamped his mouth shut, his eyes closing under furrowed brows. Then he started again.

“Wonsik, I shouldn’t have-“

“I wouldn’t have said no,” Wonsik said over him. He saw Taekwoon open his eyes in genuine surprise, their expression hopeful, but guarded, and it pulled at his heartstrings to see how openly Taekwoon’s thoughts and emotions showed on his face.

“What?” he asked in a small voice.

“If I had even thought it was possible. If I had any idea that you would be interested, that you wanted… I would not have said no, Hyung,” Wonsik stood straighter, staring back at Taekwoon in earnest.

Taekwoon’s eyes dropped, and Wonsik was surprised to see a blush creep high on his cheeks.

“But, you never made any advances,” he said softly.

“Neither did you,” Wonsik said, determined for Taekwoon to finally say what he wanted to say. Not what he had blurted out in the heat of their argument, but what he had wanted to talk about when he made Wonsik drive him home.

“What do you want to say to me? What do you really want to say? What have you ever wanted to say?” Wonsik asked, his voice urgent.

Taekwoon’s eyes widened, and he swallowed.

“You already know what I wanted to say,” he said.

“No, tell me what you were trying to say in the car,” Wonsik said, his voice hushing to almost a whisper.

“Oh,” Taekwoon swallowed. “I wanted to know if you were proud of me, and you said sure, and because you said sure, I thought you were just humouring me.”

Wonsik stepped a little closer, bending his head a little to look deeper into Taekwoon’s eyes.

“And if I wasn’t just humouring you?”

“But you were,” Taekwoon looked at him soulfully, and Wonsik knew that it was the truth. Wonsik’s need to right that wrong intensified as he carried on.

“Yes, but I’m an idiot and that is not the point because I asked you, if I was not just humouring you, if I was truly proud of you, what would you have said then?”

Taekwoon took a deep breath, and Wonsik could see his jaw working as he sought to bring himself to say it.

“I would have asked you if you could love someone like me,” he finally said, his breath stilling as he waited for Wonsik to react.

Wonsik tilted his head a little, and it was almost as if they were poised to kiss.

“What do you think I would have said?” he asked, his voice a low and thick whisper.

He saw Taekwoon inhale, a tiny shudder making him gasp. Wonsik could feel his body tightening, and he realised it was from seeing Taekwoon flustered under his gaze. He stepped in closer, and could feel Taekwoon’s body heat.

“What would you have said if I had told you I wanted you?” He said, a low rumble in the back of his throat. To his surprise, Taekwoon moaned, and he felt his cock harden instantaneously. He watched, aroused, as Taekwoon lifted the back of his hand to his mouth, his fingers trembling.

“What are you saying?” Taekwoon asked, his eyes round and hopeful.

Wonsik took another step closer, sensing that his proximity was having a very physical effect on Taekwoon, whose breath was quickening.

“I’m saying that if I wasn’t so stupid and oblivious, I might have said that I could,” Wonsik breathed, his breath like a sigh on Taekwoon’s skin as he reached up to take his hand.

He turned it so that he could kiss his palm, then leaned his cheek into it, as Taekwoon drew a long, shuddering breath. Wonsik closed his eyes, unable to meet Taekwoon’s as he spoke.

“I don’t want to be the reason for your pain. I never understood why things were how they have been between us. I didn’t think I could have you,” Wonsik whispered, his brows knitted together.

He heard Taekwoon give a soft cry, and then he felt him step close, felt his lips close over his, and they were kissing, soft and warm and wet, and Wonsik let go of Taekwoon’s hand to hold him close. It felt as if it was the first time he and Taekwoon had ever really met and understood each other head on, open and desiring to meet.

Taekwoon whimpered, his mouth opening, his tongue probing, tasting and sucking as he seemed to relieve an ache, as if he had found succour in Wonsik’s kiss. He was sighing, and Wonsik pulled back to look at him. Taekwoon’s eyes opened, and it sent a spike of desire through Wonsik’s body to see Taekwoon out of his mind with lust, his eyes clouded and heavy, his mouth wet, pink, panting for him.

He wanted to show Taekwoon how he could love someone like him, wanted to be the one to whip that desire into a frenzy, to make him come, make him lose himself in ecstasy.

He took Taekwoon by the hand, and led him back into the room, shutting the door and locking it behind him. Taekwoon let himself be led to the bed. Wonsik turned to him, kissing him gently, a little reticent about going in strong.

He was uncomfortably hard, but this was about Taekwoon. It struck him that perhaps, Taekwoon might not have completely absorbed what was happening. He wanted to be absolutely sure that Taekwoon wanted what he wanted too.

“Hyung, will you let me… I want to show you,” he sighed.

“Show me?”

“How I would love someone like you,” Wonsik stated, noting Taekwoon’s reaction with great satisfaction. He kissed him, then pulled away.

“Will you let me?” he asked, wanting Taekwoon to let him.

Taekwoon frowned, impatient.

“Yes, yes,” he said breathlessly, staring into Wonsik’s eyes as if he couldn’t understand what the hold up was.

Wonsik smiled, loving how even now, in this momentous event, Taekwoon’s character bled into his behaviour.

He leaned in and kissed him, and felt Taekwoon respond urgently, his hands coming up to hold him, his body pressing itself flush against his. He felt his erection and instinctively ground his pelvis against his, making him moan. He nudged him backwards until Taekwoon’s legs hit the bed, and then they were falling into it, Wonsik lying on top and grinding into him, using one hand to push his knee up, spreading his leg open. He could feel Taekwoon’s breath speeding up, and he took a moment to grind deeply against his cock, letting him feel what it would be like to have Wonsik between his legs, what it would be like when he finally had him naked, skin to skin, and they had no other barrier between them.

He sat up, spreading Taekwoon's other leg and placing himself so that he was kneeling squarely between them, pulling and letting his thighs rest on his, leaning forward to scoop his hands under the small of Taekwoon’s back, then resting forward onto his torso so that he held him close, his chin hovering above Taekwoon’s sternum as he stared at Taekwoon’s face. Taekwoon’s head was thrown back, his back arching so that he could grind his most intimate centre into Wonsik’s crotch, his hands on Wonsik’s shoulders as he moaned.

Wonsik took in those pretty, closed eyelids, the flush on his cheeks, and the way his mouth hung open, and his tongue lay thick in his mouth, ready for kissing, ready for receiving.

Wonsik moaned, and thrust against Taekwoon slowly, letting himself grunt softly with each thrust, watching as Taekwoon’s neck stretched with each movement, and feeling his own cock become wet inside his pants.

Taekwoon keened, bringing his hands up to wrap around his neck and lifting his head to lick him deep inside his mouth, his kiss hot and hard and aggressive, his hips bucking to meet Wonsik’s thrusts. They were both moaning, their breaths heated, their hands grappling, til suddenly Wonsik growled, sitting up and bringing Taekwoon upright too, so that he was fucking against him as he sat in his lap. He fucked hard, wanting to rip through the material between them, wanting to piston his hips up into Taekwoon til he screamed with pleasure, and in frustration he growled, burying his head in Taekwoon’s neck.

“Fuck! I could have had this. We could have done this sooner. What the fuck was I thinking?” he snarled into Taekwoon’s ear as he held him tight, squeezing his eyes shut in impatience with himself.

Taekwoon moaned, clutching him close and leaning his head in the crook of Wonsik’s neck and letting him buck against him until he slowed. He felt Wonsik’s muscles straining, felt the heat of his skin against his, and wondered at how he had ever let this take so long to happen. He opened his mouth and slid his tongue onto his skin, letting the sensitive part of his mouth, there just inside his lips, open and press against him, over and over again, small, wet, sucking kisses that made his cock grow harder and wetter, until he could feel Wonsik slowing, readying to see it through to completion.

Wonsik lay him back gently, scooting back a little to let his legs lay down, and reached for his pants to unzip them. Taekwoon reached down to try to drag them off, but before he could do that, Wonsik had leaned down and taken his weeping cock into his mouth, deep, sucking and hot, his tongue undulating and curling around him, hard and pulsing, and Taekwoon couldn’t help but whine and grab his head and fuck deep into his mouth, putting his back into grinding his crotch into Wonsik’s face.

Wonsik moaned, and Taekwoon looked down at him to see him looking at him with eyes heavy with pleasure. He let go of his head, running his fingers through his hair instead, and was filled with a second wave of lust as Wonsik took his hands and interlaced their fingers, before swallowing him right down to the back of his throat.

“Fuck! I’m-I’m coming!” he screamed, as his cock convulsed in Wonsik’s mouth, and he began to come, spurting, hot and thick, his knees coming up involuntarily as they clutched each other's hands tight, and he heard Wonsik moan with pleasure as he watched him orgasm, sucking and drinking down his come as they watched each other, hungered, pained.

Taekwoon’s eyes slid closed, as he felt the tremors of his after-pleasure shimmer through his body. He was panting, swallowing little gasps as he felt his body’s release settle through him. Wonsik’s thumbs were caressing the skin on his hands as he stilled his tongue, sliding ever so slowly, sucking ever so tightly as he did so, to the end of Taekwoon’s cock, making his body curl over one last time before he let it go. It was as if he was taking with him some old regret too, as Taekwoon felt a soft, blank bliss descend over his mind, bringing with it the hard satisfaction of his climax, and the soft satisfaction of finally knowing how Wonsik felt.

He fell into a light sleep, sensing that Wonsik was undressing him and turning him onto his side so that he could cuddle him from behind. When he awoke, it was to the feeling of Wonsik’s naked body pressed against his back, one hand playing gently over the front of his body as he hugged him from behind, and his cock lying between his legs, flush against his balls, as he gently stroked it back and forth over them with slow, soft pelvic rocking.

Taekwoon felt a deep gratitude for the pleasure he had received, and for Wonsik’s reaching and responding to him. He arched his back, finding Wonsik’s roaming hand and bringing it up to his nipple for him to tease. When he looked for his other hand, he found it reaching for his face already, and he opened his mouth to swallow his thumb, sucking on it with his eyes closed in pleasure. Wonsik moaned, and he felt his cock jump against him.

Taekwoon turned a little, and brought himself up a little to rest his weight on his elbows, opening up his ass so that the tip of Wonsik's cock fell into place right there, and he sighed as he felt Wonsik press gently against him, almost breaching, sending trills of sensation and a little trepidation through his body.

“Wonsik, please,” he sighed, rocking back against him and spreading one knee wide and high against the mattress, letting that tip push past the ring of muscles that was waiting, waiting for that discomfort, that pleasure-pain that he wanted so badly. He moaned, letting his head drop back, just as he heard Wonsik’s almost surprised, guttural gasp as his cock entered him just enough for him to be able to push right in if he wanted to.

Taekwoon smiled, the heat he felt from the stretch turning into an anticipation of the pleasure that was more intense than the fear of pain.

He wanted Wonsik to fuck him, lose his mind fucking him hard.

“Please. Show me,” he breathed, rocking back hard and arching his back so that Wonsik’s cock slid deeper into him.

“Unnghh,” Wonsik groaned into his ear, his mouth slack and open, wet against his skin as he fucked into him hard, making Taekwoon feel like he was being pinned to the bed by his cock.

Then Wonsik lifted himself higher, squaring his hips over Taekwoon’s, and bracing himself on his hands over his body. With what seemed like a deep effort of control, he held his full weight off Taekwoon as he used his knee to nudge his other leg open, deepening his access, until he could hold himself off no longer - and then he was ploughing down into Taekwoon, fucking so hard into him he could hear Taekwoon’s breath getting pumped out of him.

“Oh god. Oh, fuck, FUCK,” he moaned as he felt the culmination of pleasure beginning to build towards it peak.

Taekwoon moaned tightly, and dimly Wonsik thought that maybe he was being too rough too soon, but it felt so good, he could feel his cock hard and tight in its own skin as it pushed past that tight ring over and over again, and then it was over, his orgasm crashing hard as he bucked deep, grunting like a fucking animal as he felt himself empty out and Taekwoon’s ass become slippery hot with come. Wonsik grabbed Taekwoon around his waist as he finished, pulling him tight so that he could fuck closer and deeper, his head bowed against Taekwoon’s shoulder, his lips loose and mouthing against his pale skin till it wasn’t enough and he had to use his teeth to bite softly as he came and came and came.

Taekwoon too, had bowed his head and was holding himself up against the sudden weight of Wonsik against his back, and when Wonsik bit him he cried out, a wail that was soft and yearning at the same time, and they collapsed on the bed as carefully as they could, boneless as they were, Wonsik laying him down by the waist before he let his weight fall completely over his back, spent and sweaty in heat.

They caught their breaths, Wonsik stroking at Taekwoon’s neck, wanting him to know that he wasn’t finished, but the orgasm and the exertion were taking its toll on him, and he could feel himself slipping into slumber as his cock was slipping out.

It was only when he felt Taekwoon’s urgent movements as he turned to face him and pushed his leg between his, that he realised Taekwoon wanted more.

“Hyung,” he mumbled, trying to open his eyes.

“Hold me. Please?” he heard the plaintive plea in Taekwoon’s voice, as if he might be asking too much, and couldn’t help but feel that holding him was the least he could do. He twined his arms around Taekwoon’s back as best he could, and found himself slipping his hand down to his ass, his fingers discovering the slide of his come in Taekwoon’s crack, and he moaned as he slid his finger deep into his asshole.

Taekwoon moaned too, and began grinding his cock, wet with precome, against the hard muscle of his thigh.

“Hyung, you like that?” Wonsik drawled sleepily, withdrawing his finger so that he could slip a second one in, then holding his fingers deep inside, tight, gently moving them so that they rubbed the rim of his hole ever so slowly, firmly.

He opened his eyes to watch Taekwoon’s face, cheeks flushed and eyebrows furrowed upwards in the middle, his lips trembling as he clutched Wonsik tight and bucked against his leg breathlessly. He gazed at Wonsik helplessly, as if he were on the verge of tears, and then his eyes fluttered shut as he began to whimper.

“Uhhh, ohhh,” he breathed, his head falling back as Wonsik slipped a third finger in and began finger fucking his wet asshole hard.

“Come for me,” he growled, and Taekwoon keened, throwing his head back as he arched his back, stilling for a moment as he reached the brink of his orgasm, then groaning deep as he started bucking faster, his weeping cock suddenly spurting come between their bodies as his torso curled over and bowed his head against Wonsik’s chest, moaning breathily as he came.

Wonsik could feel his asshole clenching around his fingers, then loosen as he reached his peak and relaxed, slumping against him with sighs and caresses, Taekwoon’s hands sliding over his skin as if it would make the pleasure last longer that way. Wonsik withdrew his fingers, elliciting one more moan from Taekwoon, who pressed one final, sweet kiss against his skin before letting himself fall back to rest against the pillows.

Wonsik fell forward to rest his head against Taekwoon’s chest. They fell asleep, entwined, sloppy and sated, and didn’t wake for hours.

**

When they finally awoke, they realised they had forgotten they were meeting Hakyeon for dinner with the others at his place, and got up in too much of a rush to feel awkward as they stepped into the shower stall together.

Wonsik let Taekwoon soap himself up before turning him to face the wall suddenly and using the soap to jerk him hard, his other hand sliding over his nipple and tugging at it ferociously, till Taekwoon leaned back against him and came with his head thrown back against his shoulder and crying out his name in a broken voice, his legs almost buckling as he struggled to stay upright.

As the come washed away, he stroked over Taekwoon’s body lightly, letting the water help him wipe away the soap and suds as Taekwoon stood, trembling in his post-orgasm bliss, his shut eyes fluttering as he sighed away the rest of his climax.

Wonsik pressed his front against Taekwoon's curved back, kissed the tip of his ear and murmured quietly into it, “What do you think, Hyung, did I show you?” feeling perhaps that it sounded a little corny or stupidly competitive, but he was surprised to feel Taekwoon’s hand slide up to grab his hair as he angled his head and kissed him sloppily over his shoulder.

He turned to face him, and Wonsik felt his cock stiffen painfully as he suddenly knelt, and took him in his mouth. He supposed he didn’t need an answer when Taekwoon lapped and sucked at his dick as if it were a gift. He came onto Taekwoon’s waiting tongue, his come painting stripes across his open mouth, and when he was done, he knelt before him too and thanked him with a deep kiss.

They finished cleaning up, and got dressed in a quiet, sombre peacefulness, catching each other’s eye every now and then, helping with a button here, or handing some item there.

As they left the apartment, they held hands briefly until Wonsik had to turn to lock up, and they walked to the car in silence.

They drove the short way to Hakyeon’s apartment in companionable silence, until suddenly Wonsik had a thought.

“Was that song about me?” he asked, shocked that it might be.

Taekwoon, who was leaning languidly back in his seat, smiled to himself. Wonsik supposed he didn’t need any more confirmation than that, and suddenly felt oddly happy that he had a song that someone had written for him.

“I want it, now, you have to let me use it,” Wonsik stated. Taekwoon smirked.

“As long as you make sure Daetuck sorts out the credit and copyright okay, I will be fine,” he said, which made Wonsik laugh. Taekwoon being Taekwoony.

When they arrived at Hakyeon’s place, they could hear voices inside already. They stood side by side, but not touching, as they waited for the door to open, and when it finally did, Hakyeon appeared with a whoosh of the door, beaming at them.

It took him less than a second to click, and his eyes met Taekwoon’s immediately.

Taekwoon walked straight past him, not bothering to hug him as he said a quick “Hello,” and went through to greet the others.

Hakyeon let him go, catching Wonsik’s eye pointedly.

“Wonsik. How are you? You look strangely different,” he said.

Wonsik wouldn’t fall for whatever it was Hakyeon was trying to set him up for, though he wasn’t quite sure what.

“What do you mean Hyung, I’m just the same as when you left,” he intoned, coming in for a brief hug before he pulled back to hold him at arm’s length. Hakyeon gripped his forearms briefly and sent him off into the living room with the others.

He smiled to himself. Oblivious as always.

Then he turned to walk into the room, his heart full and happy, and thinking of Taekwoon.


End file.
